Nikome
by MentalMidget008
Summary: The story of a young farm boy.....turned hero


Prologue  
  
In mythology and legend, a hero is a man, often of divine ancestry, who is endowed with great courage and strength, celebrated for his bold exploits, and favored by God. But this is not a myth, nor a legend. Nikome was the son of a simple farmer, not an emperor or even a duke. "Great courage and strength," were not terms that had ever been used in the same sentence as Nikome, and most definitely not in reference to him. And yet...here he was, standing before the King, bearing witness to the most precipitous event to happen in his lifetime. And it all came to pass because of Nikome. Maybe, just maybe, he was a hero after all. So listen as I tell you his story and you decide if Nikome is a hero, or just a poor farm boy who got in over his head.  
  
Chapter One  
  
Nikome emerged from the chicken house right as his sister Bera was emptying the morning's dishwater out of the back door. Unfortunately, she did not see her brother until it was too late. Lukewarm, dirty, smelly water soaked Nikome from the chest down. He stood there blinking in mild astonishment, the chicken feed bucket still gripped in his right hand.   
  
"Oh, Nikome, I'm sorry!" Bera cringed, clapping one wet hand to her mouth in silent apology. Her black hair, tied back for chores, had already begun to fray and curl out of the neat bun she had made earlier. "I should have looked first-"  
  
"No, it's all right. I needed a bath anyway," Nikome replied ruefully, tossing his empty bucket aside, scattering a small flock of geese pecking about in the barnyard in the process. They honked irritably and flapped off in search of better pickings. "Is Mama inside?"  
  
Bera shook her head, replacing her own pail inside before handing her brother the large bucket full of scraps for the pigs. "No, she went with Father to the field. They are looking at the damage done by the latest storm."  
  
Nikome's icy blue eyes clouded in remembrance of last night. The sky was still gray and overcast, but the ominous black clouds that had gathered yesterday were long gone, their fury spent on the helpless humans for whom the weather had no regard. He remembered the way the wind had howled around the ancient farmhouse, like a pack of ravenous wolves. And the hail, beating a frenzied pattern on the weathered boards of the roof. Each repercussion had driven his younger brothers and sisters further beneath the quilts, huddling close to him in their fear. Nikome hadn't been afraid, he'd been angry. Angry at the storm, angry at what it would mean for his family. Their crops, their only means of providing food for the table to feed the large family, were destroyed all in one night.   
  
Bera brought Nikome's attention back to the present. "Garin and Naoi went with them. I checked the root cellar, Nikome. It's practically bare. If this winter's anything like the last one, I don't know what we'll do."  
  
Nikome clenched his jaw, repressing his roiling feelings. He could not change the weather; he could only wish it were different. That there weren't so many mouths to feed. He was the oldest of the children, and he felt pressured with the need to make things right. His father was aging, and his mother had to tend to the younger children. That left matters up to him.   
  
Bera saw the struggle in her brother's eyes. She knew what they faced: probable starvation. They could not hope to glean enough from the crops to help them through, to say nothing of the animals. She weighed her own matter, the solution she had been thinking about ever since the storms had begun. At last Bera spoke the words. "Nikome, I'm leaving."  
  
His head snapped up to stare at her. "What? You can't-!"  
  
"I can," she said coolly. "I am of marrying age now, and I know all the tasks a wife should. Mathius has offered to take me on as a kitchen maid, he will pay me well. And later he will likely marry me. I will send my earnings home, and there will be one less person to feed. Naoi can take my place in the kitchen, she is old enough." Nikome opened his mouth to say something again, but Bera continued, heedless, "I will not be far away, and it is the best answer I have."  
  
Nikome looked at his sister. He said nothing, merely gazed at her. Finally, he laughed a short, mirthless laugh and shook his head. "Our minds think alike. I too intend to leave. The King is looking for men to join the army. A time of war is upon us again. A soldier's pay is not much, but it is more than nothing. Garin can help Father in the fields, as can Wyan, when he gets better. I leave in the morning."  
  
"NikomeâE¦" Bera began, but he waved her words aside.   
  
"My mind is made up. I am all ready to leave. I'm not telling Mama and Father, they won't understand. They've always been proud, willing to give aid rather than take it themselves." 


End file.
